The single couplet that seals the chapter states its theme plainly: one word reaches through worlds numberless as sand, and the power of the Law is vast, boundless and deep. It gathers the whole arc — the vase that held a sea, the flood that made a paradise, the fillet that tamed a demon — into one assertion about reach, where a mere syllable accomplishes what armies and fire could not. After the long comedy and the violence, the verse restores the sound of the sacred: the Bodhisattva's power is not spectacle but the deep, quiet omnipotence of the Law.

The couplet also answers the chapter's opening on its own terms. It began with a lie about identity, carried on through invented calendars and false fathers, and turned on the discovery that a borrowed shape cannot survive being spoken through. Set against all that unreliable talk, the closing claim is about a word that does exactly what it says — reaching every world there is, and needing to be said only once.